Today marks the end of an ear-piercing, tween-infused era, thanks to the final episode of TRL airing tonight — and it's live, which is more than we can say about it over the past couple of years. Has-been Carson Daly will host the finale, which is fitting because the years he ran the show were the Glory Days for not only Carson but TRL itself. After many years of pimping out boy bands and Britneys, the show took a turn for the worst, no longer filming live, losing host after host, offering a haven for sad tweens who eat their hair — and making life miserable for Mollygood editors who braved the masses for their favorite singers.
After the jump, a look at our favorite moments from the show's 10-year run. CONTINUED »
Washed-up has-been Vanilla Ice has fallen so, so far. Yet, when he promised to show up at a bar down the street from my apartment, I couldn't help but make an appearance to check out the inevitable circus show. Hundreds of other sad drunks were in attendance, so here's my findings of the type of person it takes to show up at a Vanilla Ice event: CONTINUED »
How long has this election been dragging on, like, 10 years or something? Tonight will (hopefully) bring an end to the race, with either a Barack Obama or John McCain victory. While we watch history being made, we encourage all of our readers to chime in throughout the evening with their thoughts on the results. We'll be popping in from time to time — Cord with coverage of the DC scene and Whitney from NYC — to keep you updated on the returns and the final result.
And, for the love of Xenu, don't kill each other. CONTINUED »
Stuck without a Halloween costume to wear tonight? Don't panic — we have seven fool-proof ideas to impress your friends and guarantee you extra candy (or at least a few concerned looks), all inspired by some of our favorite celebrities. They're not exactly scary in the traditional sense, but these costumes are frightening nonetheless. Don't say we never do anything for you.
When you're done, feel free to guess what Whitney will be dressing up as for Halloween (Cord accidentally revealed his costume already). Winner gets a free Internet hug and pride.
I woke up this morning to find a text from a friend reading, "Texas A&M is making quite a name for itself this election season." I groaned and pulled the covers over my head in an attempt to avoid whatever my alma mater had done to shame itself this time, but eventually headed over to CNN.com to find out the news: The Young Conservatives of Texas on campus set up an Anti-Obama Carnival, encouraging students to throw eggs at a picture of Barack Obama (video after the jump). Well, at least this stunt wasn't as bad as the College Station woman (and possible Aggie) who carved the backwards "B" in her cheek, but it's not helping the stereotype that the town is a "Texas hate community that usually loathes any African American who can't score a touchdown."
So this is the final straw, and I'm taking it upon myself to defend a school and town I love in an attempt to explain the unexplainable: How, despite all logic, these conservative towns aren't all that bad. CONTINUED »
A woman spent $3 million dollars on a Superbowl ad in hopes of catching the perfect beer-gut slouch of a husband. You can tell that Amy Borkowsky here is desperate because she describes her age as "somewhere between Carrie and Samantha," and also refers to dating as "a game," meaning she's read that Neil Strauss book from front to back.
Current American superhero Michael Phelps is still using his timely fame to break my heart. This time around he was at Las Vegas' Tao, but he clearly was not interested in the sleazies dancing in the background. Phew.
On another note, who wears a hood over a hat? And indoors? Minus two points, Mike.
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For all five of you who stopped watching Sarah Palin destroy our country long enough to catch the season finale of Making the Band, let's discuss. Diddy kicked out both Aubrey O'Day and D. Woods, leaving only three sad members (Aundrea, Dawn and Shannon) who looked like someone shot their puppy.
Your reality TV-loving associate editor, Whitney, attended the live taping and got some inside scoop on exactly what went down in Diddy Land (unfortunately, Puff Diddles was too busy cavorting in his Miami hotel room to join the rest of his minions at the MTV studios). Spoiler alert: There was more bitchassness than should be allowed. CONTINUED »
Remember when I told you guys about how Michael Phelps rejected me at Bowlmor's 70th anniversary party and instead went back to his lane so he could put his arm around some girl? Well, I found the girl: Miss California contestant Nicole Johnson. The two have been spotted out together a lot lately — she even flew back to Baltimore with him last week. And a source at the Bowlmor party confirmed the girl I spotted with Michael was indeed Nicole:
While Phelps told reporters on the red carpet that he's not dating anyone, Johnson quietly slipped into the booth at his lane. As the two canoodled, a bevy of female fans began to snap shots of the duo, prompting an enraged Johnson to stand, cast a stern look at the crowd and yell, 'Who is taking pictures?'
I hate her already. That's immature, but I do.
So Whitney, your fearless associate editor, and Michael Phelps, America's latest obsession, gathered in the same room last night and nobody died. That, in itself, is a victory. Nobody got engaged either, which is a slight failure, but the entire evening was one of the best nights of my life, so I'm not sad. Well, maybe a little. CONTINUED »
By the time you read this, I will be hopping on a subway headed downtown to meet my future fiance, Michael Phelps. He's hosting an event and doing red carpet interviews, so I am contractually obligated to remain professional and classy for the majority of the evening; there will, however, be an open bar, so I can't promise this self-control will last the entire night. The experience will be a success if he professes his undying love for me. Wish me luck, and I'll have the full write-up for you first thing tomorrow.
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Is everybody sitting down? I have some exciting news: Next week I will be dispatched to cover an event hosted by none other than Michael Phelps! I'll give you a minute to stop squealing.
As you can imagine, I've been preparing for this moment my entire life — so I decided to ask for your input, dear readers: What should I ask Michael when I interview him on the red carpet (or as I follow him around throughout the evening)? All suggestions welcome. (Keep it clean; I am a classy lady.)
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So last night I was invited to the premiere of Hounddog, the film that caused a lot of controversy a while back because it features a Dakota Fanning rape scene. After watching the movie, I can safely say that the fuss was overblown, but that's probably obvious at this point.
On to the good stuff: The red carpet! Where my spot along the velvet ropes was labeled "Whittle Little, Jossip.com." Awesome. CONTINUED »
Today is kind of a milestone of mine, because it's my one year anniversary at Jossip HQ. I started out as an intern over at Jossip.com for a few months before being moved over to Mollygood full-time, so it's not my real first anniversary yet, but I'm sentimental and celebrate anytime I can. I remember showing up at what I have dubbed The Tiniest Starbucks In The World across the street from Bryant Park to interview for the internship and staring across out the window at all of the celebrities and models (and Nigel Barker!). I hadn't a clue I would be there a year later, which is what made this Fashion Week exciting for me. CONTINUED »
Ever wondered what eight gold medals look like? No? Well, Michael Phelps wants to show you anyway, posing on the cover of Sports Illustrated with his winnings hanging around his neck. And if you were curious as to how popular he's become over the past couple of weeks, the media is now speculating on his love life, which means he's officially hit the big time. The two candidates for Michael's maybe-girlfriend are fellow Olympic swimmer Amanda Beard and model Lily Donaldson. The article left out his third potential girlfriend, Whitney, but it's probably best to keep that under wraps.
It's embarrassing story time: During my sophomore year in college I had a teensy weensy crush on Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps that drove me to spend over $100 on all the MP paraphernalia I could find on eBay. Then I dragged my roommates into my obsession by making them accompany me to a swimming exhibition an hour away where we caught a small glimpse of Michael as he walked back to his bus. I wrote down my phone number to give to one of his handlers, but — can you believe it — I never heard from him. I finally moved on, but I have a bad feeling my problem may creep back now that it's Olympic season yet again and Men's Journal is putting out pictures like these.
Editor
